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Tim Mysterio’s tales of strange Liverpool

Old Swan's favourite ghost hunter and psychic brings you the eerie story of “B”

Published on August 8th 2007.

Following on from my last supernatural investigation, which abruptly ended when I fell down an invisible hole in Mathew Street, I bring you a similarly disturbing tale, this time of strange goings-on in the Municipal Buildings.

I was recently contacted in my ghost-hunter HQ by a prominent Liverpool politician. I have concealed his name so as to maintain confidentiality but, for the purpose of the tale, I shall call him “B”.

“B” was concerned that unusual occurrences were afoot in the council offices. Troubled, but unspecific, he was able to reveal more under hypnotic regression.

“B” mumbled deliriously of spectres that lurked waiting for him to trip up, muttering the words “put the boot in” and “jump into my place”.

Seemingly, one crept ever closer. Shivering, “B” described it a ghost from times past who once fancifully proclaimed, “We will deliver on the tram and we will deliver on the Fourth Grace”.

The phantom's career, however, ended. Its head rolled, but now the ghost carries it under his arm, through the dark, empty corridors of Dale Street for all eternity. It watches and waits - at least in the school holidays.

Another apparition, once thought to be the king of Skem, surveys the scene from his Living Room downtown. Surrounding himself with a bevy of lovelies and a bevy of bevvies, he sits in splendour and dreams of a higher throne. "B" tells me that many others in his city want this imaginary throne too, and I suddenly feel other presences in the room. There is nobody there.

“B”s biggest demon, however, apparently looms in the future when he has to fight a year-long battle for death or glory. “B” became very disturbed and confused at this stage of his regression, shrieking that a set of mysterious “figures” would bring doom. He was very agitated about “a big short fall”. What could he mean?

I thought it best to bring him out of his trance at this stage with a click of my fingers.

“B” stretched like a cat and smiled contentedly. He remembered nothing.

What do you think? Is there paranormal life in the Town Hall? Have you ever called Liverpool Direct and spoken to a zombie? Has anyone actually seen a councillor ever again after an election?

Next time I’ll be investigating the mysterious Merseyrail “time tunnels” where you can board a train early but arrive at work on another date.

Contact me with your tales of weird Liverpool. Have the spirits of the Blob Shop ever consumed you? Have you ever tried to order a drink in Dr Duncan’s and realised that you were invisible? Have you ever gone back to the same shop in St Johns for a refund, only for them to claim that they have never seen you before? Is Saddam Hussein alive, well and living in Kenny?

I want to hear your stories which I can then print in one of my 27 books that sell like hot cakes in Smiths.

And if you don’t tell me them, I’ll make them up anyway.

Tim Mysterio

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